I was born into a legalist sect you’ve never heard of, but it was right under your nose.
It taught me that my only purpose was to earn God’s favor through the approval of church leadership.
In essence, we were taught to seek the favor of men who were said to have “more of the Holy Spirit” than us.
As men, we were told a “godly” woman looked a certain way—her appearance a reflection of our righteousness.
I participated in that.
I was taught that the highest calling was to give up dreams of family, children, career—to live as an itinerant minister.
I was encouraged, both subtly and directly, to abandon every pursuit for this role — especially with my last name.
Since leaving, the freedom has been beautiful—but the weight of forty years of bondage has taken its toll.
It’s like walking out of prison after four decades and seeing that your friends were out living—getting married, having kids, building careers, pursuing passions.
And you’re just now stepping into life, asking…what now?
Our entire identity was wrapped up in that group.
Our community, our rhythms, our sense of purpose—marked by church events and its culture.
And now that exile—self-inflicted—is suddenly over.
Most people outside didn’t even know.
Now they’re trying to catch up, as someone they’ve known their whole life starts revealing a truth they never understood—despite living right next to it.
So who are we?
We’re ghosts re-entering our bodies.
Being born for the first time—though we already existed.
But now we’re alive in a way that’s hard to comprehend.
Many of us carry deep anxiety.
Social fears.
A lack of belonging.
Shattered relationships.
We look in the mirror and see shells.
We get wrinkles but we haven’t grown.
We had dreams that had to be put away.
We lost so much time that we’ll never get back.
We want it back.
We want to go back and do it right—without the identity someone else gave us.
But there’s hope.
Today…
I saw a different face.
No longer a ghost.
I saw a man who made the right choice—who stepped away from everything he ever knew so his wife and kids could be free.
A face that’s aged because it’s been through some things.
A face that looks forward to new experiences, relationships.
A new walk with Christ.
I saw someone Christ loves immensely.
Someone who took a stand, even when it cost everything.
And for once—I accepted what I saw.
The way God has always accepted me.
Anxiety didn’t come from my genetics or just how my brain works.
It came from my idolatry.
It came from unforgiveness.
It came from being excluded from everything that was normal and safe.
Those things created a storm in me until I let go—accepted myself—and released the people I had held hostage in my heart.
My anxiety is now a useful siren.
It lets me know I’m serving something that isn’t God.
It lets me know I’m not forgiving someone.
It lets me know I’m trying to control.
My anxiety.
Because I won’t pretend this is anyone else’s universal truth.
The more I look at myself—and others—through Christ’s eyes,the more at peace I become.
Today, I’m grateful.
Grateful for the pain.
Grateful for the abandonment.
Grateful for everything that brought me here.
Grateful for my marriage, my kids, our home, our new community, and every single person God has placed in our lives.
Grateful for the broken idols that lay at our feet.
Grateful for the failures and the wins.
Letting go is something I do…and don’t do…daily.
But when I do—when I let love in—it heals the whole past.
It lets me look up…smile at the man in the mirror…and recognize the healing little boy behind that face.
Love really is the way forward.
If you are leaving legalism, you are loved, you are enough, and your life starts now.
Smile at yourself in the mirror. You’re doing great.
Also, it’s okay to be really freaking mad for a season.
God can handle it.
By Jared Lerwick
March 21, 2025